The Ship and the Lighthouse
by morecolorfulmoniker
Summary: As Killian is putting his daughter Evie to bed, she asks for a story that is not in the Once Upon a Time storybook that she has come to know so well. After some thought, he tells her the story he knows better than them all. (Inspired by the Garth Brooks song "When You Come Back to Me Again.")


_There's a ship out  
On the ocean  
At the mercy of the sea  
It's been tossed about  
Lost and broken  
Wandering aimlessly  
And God somehow  
You know that ship is me_

_'Cause there's a lighthouse_  
_In the harbor_  
_Shining faithfully_  
_Pouring its light out_  
_Across the water_  
_For this sinking soul to see_  
_That someone out there_  
_Still believes in me_

"Evie, bed time!" Killian said as he made his way down the hallway and into his daughter's 'castle'. He found her in her usual spot, sitting in one corner of the room with Henry's old storybook in her lap. At three years old, she couldn't yet read, but thanks to their nightly story time that she insisted upon before she could think about falling asleep, she knew every word by heart.

Henry had given it to her the day she came home from the hospital, tucking it into her crib and telling her that she was the luckiest baby in the world to be born into such a wonderful family. When Emma asked him why he'd given it up, he told her that he didn't need it anymore. He had become as much a part of it as anyone else. It was his sister's turn to believe.

"Sory, Daddy, sory!" she exclaimed when she saw him standing in the doorway. She scrambled out of the floor, lifted the book that was almost as big as she was into her arms, and hopped across the room and onto her bed, disappearing entirely under the covers except for her tiny toes, which Killian took the opportunity to reach out and tickle. Her high-pitched giggles rang off the bright pink walls as she kicked and rolled around. When she was finally free from his reach, she reappeared above the covers, her bright blonde curls hanging in a tangled mess in front of her face. "Sory time, Daddy?" she asked again as he tucked her hair back behind her ears.

"Yes, Princess, story time," he answered as her smile widened to span the width of her entire tiny face. "Which one would you like to hear tonight?"

"New one!" she burst excitedly, as if the idea had been building inside her only to finally explode.

"A new one? Not in the book?" he asked as she bobbed her head up and down. "I'm not sure I know any, darling."

"Pease, Daddy?" she begged as he stared into a pair of bright blue eyes that were entirely too familiar. He saw them in the mirror every day. His daughter was a perfect clone of Emma, except for her eyes. She had Killian's eyes. And he had to admit that they got her out of trouble more often than not. Emma couldn't resist them, and he couldn't bear to ever see anything akin to the pain he had to see for lifetimes mirrored in his daughter's eyes.

"All right, all right, you win. Let me think," he said as she nestled herself into her pillow and fixed her eyes on him, ready to listen. After a moment, he knew exactly the story he was going to tell. "There was a sh—"

"Once 'pon time, Daddy!" Evie fussed, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout that would rival her mother's in its ability to completely win him over.

"_Once upon a time_," he emphasized as she clapped her hands together and leaned back into the pillow again. "There was a ship. And this wasn't just any ship. It traveled across all the realms and had many adventures."

"A magic sip, Daddy?"

"Aye, a magic ship," he confirmed. "And for a long time, the ship went on these adventures and saw wonderful sights. Deep blue oceans and giant mountains. White sandy beaches and bright green forests. And rainbows…huge rainbows with the most beautiful colors." Evie glanced over to the wall, to the rainbow that Killian had painted one day after a storm ended and a real rainbow had appeared in the sky, the first time his daughter had ever seen so many colors at once. He could still remember the way her eyes widened with the beauty and wonder of it. So while she was sleeping one night, he'd snuck into her room and made his best attempt at painting a rainbow, although he'd never been the most artistic. When she woke, he told her that magic had brought the rainbow into her room for her to keep forever. But she had inherited her mother's ability to detect lies, and rather than correcting him, she simply nodded and wrapped herself around his leg in a display of gratitude far beyond her years. "But one day," he continued the story, pulling her attention back on him. "The ship encountered a storm. The darkest, most terrifying storm ever. Thunder boomed so loud that no other sound could be heard, and huge waves rushed over the deck, nearly sinking the ship." He looked up, expecting Evie to be tucked under the covers, hands trembling and eyes frightened, but not his daughter. Not Emma's daughter. She was more brave, strong, and stubborn than both of her parents combined, and she was only three years old. No, rather than fear, he found excitement in her gaze. The kind of unchecked thrill that he felt every time he set sail for an unknown land. But he also found sympathy. As if she knew the kind of pain he was describing. "The ship was trapped in the darkness of that storm for years and years. It seemed as though it would never end. And then, one day, a small light appeared in the darkness. The ship began to follow it. There were times when the light would fade and the ship struggled to find it, but in the end it always came back, each time brighter than ever, until in one moment, the light shined so bright that the darkness disappeared and the world was clear again for the first time in a long time. The ship searched for the source of the light and found it coming from the most beautiful lighthouse perched on a cliff, overlooking the sea. And although more storms would always come, the ship would never have to face them alone."

"They live happy ever after, Daddy?" Evie asked, always her favorite part of every story he ever read to her.

"Yes, they lived happily ever after," he said, brushing his hand against her cheek as she smiled and leaned into his touch. "Now off to sleep, little one, or your mother will kill me for letting you stay up this late."

"Ok, Daddy. I love you," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and placing a kiss on his cheek as he tightened his own grip around her. He could still remember the first time he held her, so small and fragile. He feared he may break her at first, but the more she grew, the tighter he held on. To his little girl. His miracle. The little blonde princess with the bright blue eyes that held just as tightly to his heart as her mother.

"I love you, Evelyn," he said softly as she let go of him, crawled under the covers, and he kissed her forehead, walking across the room and turning out the light. He watched her for a few minutes, until the rise and fall of her chest deepened and evened out in sleep, the expression on her face softening in whatever intricate dream she would inevitably tell him all about tomorrow.

"So what story did you tell her tonight?" Emma asked as she walked out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, one towel secured around her body while she used another to wring excess water out of her hair.

"She wanted a new one," he replied, uncrossing his legs and sitting up straight against the pillow on his side of the bed.

"A new one? Are there any she doesn't know?" Emma asked, already knowing the answer.

"I had to venture outside the book for this one." Emma turned, pausing for a moment to mull that thought over before she walked to the vanity on the opposite side of the room.

"Was it a love story? You know those are her favorite." He nodded, the smile on his face growing.

"Aye, it was," he confirmed.

"Whose?" she asked, her back to him as she stood brushing her hair.

"Ours," he answered softly as he waited for the reaction he knew he was going to get. He only had to wait a moment before Emma's eyes met his through their reflections in the mirror, surprise and curiosity in her expression. After a moment, however, she turned her attention back to her own reflection, running the brush through her hair one final time before turning and approaching the bed. "Would you like to hear it?" he asked when she didn't respond.

"Of course. But not now. Now, I think we should write another chapter," she said as she leaned over and placed a soft kiss to his lips, starting a small smoldering flame burning within him. "What do you think?"

"I _am_ feeling rather creative tonight," he answered, reaching out to pull her back down towards him when she took a step back and shook her head.

"Not so fast. First, you need a blank page to write on," she said, unwrapping the towel covering her and dropping it to the ground. Killian's eyes raked over her, attempting to memorize every freckle, every curve, every inch of the soft skin he longed to touch more than he needed air in his lungs. She was so much more than a blank page. She was a work of art. "And then," she added, pulling him from his own thoughts as she crawled onto the bed, straddling him. "You need something hard to write with." She unzipped his pants, reaching inside and wrapping her hand around his already hardening length and eliciting a soft moan from somewhere deep in his chest.

Running his hands from her neck over her breasts and down to her hips, he suddenly flipped her so that he was on top, pressing his lips to hers and trailing kisses from her neck to her collarbone and down to her stomach before she tugged on his hair and pulled him back up, their lips crashing together again.

"Hello?!" a tiny little voice cut through the sound of their heavy breathing as a soft knock sounded on their closed bedroom door.

"I thought you put her to bed!" Emma whispered, panic apparent in her voice.

"She was asleep when I left, love, but much like her mother, she tosses and turns all night," he responded softly when yet another, louder knock came at the door.

"Like me? You're the one who captains a ship and stays awake until all hours of the night!" Emma hissed, scrambling off the bed and pulling on a pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt.

"If I recall correctly, you're the one who wasn't prepared to sleep tonight," he said, flashing her his most provocative smirk as she playfully shoved him down into the bed when the knock reached maximum volume and the door shook just slightly from the force of a three year old's strength.

"Come in!" Emma said as the knocking ceased and the door clicked, opening just a crack. Evie's head appeared inside the door as she glanced at her parents who were attempting to look as unscathed as possible despite what they had previously been in the middle of moments before.

"I seep with you?" she asked, glancing between the two of them, blue eyes dark with the exhaustion she was fighting.

"Of course, baby. Come here," Emma answered, patting the space between them where she'd slept almost every night for the first two years of her life, despite having a crib in the corner of the room. It was only within the last several months that she had begged for a room of her own and they had obliged, but even after they'd built her castle, she continued to appear at their door asking if she could sleep with them. Unable to deny her, they let her snuggle into the space between them where she fit perfectly.

"Daddy, we put the sip and the lighthass in my once 'pon time book 'morrow?" Evie asked as she crawled over and found her usual spot, peering up at Killian as she did.

"As you wish, Princess. We can write in your book tomorrow," he promised, knowing that she would recognize the phrase he used exclusively with Emma and with her. The special way in which he told them how much he loved them, by promising them whatever was within his power to grant.

"The ship and the lighthouse?" Emma asked curiously, casting a glance between Killian and Evie in search of an answer. Killian glanced down at their daughter just as she looked at him, his customary smirk mirrored on her face. It startled him, in that moment, how much she looked like him. Perhaps there was more pirate in their little princess than they realized.

"The sip was stuck in the big dark storm for a long long time, and the lighthass shined the light and saved it. And they lived happy ever after. Right, Daddy?" Evie explained, looking to her father for verification. He answered with a wink and a nod, feeling his cheeks begin to burn with slight embarrassment as he chanced a glance over at Emma for her reaction.

Tears had pooled just at the edges of her green eyes. One of the brightest smiles he'd ever seen lit her face as she swiped at a single tear that had dropped down onto her cheek.

"Night, Mama, Daddy. Love you," Evie said between yawns as she settled in to the bed and fell asleep almost immediately, the sound of her soft snoring filling their ears.

"Not quite the chapter you were hoping to write tonight, I imagine," Killian said after several silent minutes passed as he brushed his fingers gently through Evie's curls.

"This one was better," Emma replied, leaning down to kiss her daughter's head. "Even lighthouses need some guidance from ships once in awhile. No matter how small the ships may be."

"She's far more a lighthouse than a ship, love," Killian remarked as Emma shook her head, placing her hand in his hair at the back of his neck and pulling him closer to her, until their foreheads were resting together.

"She's a ship with her own light. I have a feeling she'll guide herself through the storms. As for the story, I think you missed some of it."

"And what exactly did I miss?" he asked.

"How lonely the lighthouse was for all those years, trying to guide the wrong ships. Until the right ship came along, and—" Suddenly Killian interrupted her with a kiss, soft and gentle, their lips conveying all that words could not. "So you really think that we should put our story in the book? Are we ready for fairy tale status?" Emma asked, her tone both teasing and genuine in the same moment. Killian looked down at Evie, still sleeping soundly between them, one tiny hand on Killian's leg and the other resting on Emma's, and then back up to meet the eyes of the source of the love that had guided the broken ship that he was through a darkness he thought he'd never find his way out of. The kind of love story that he didn't believe in until he was right in the middle of it.

"Emma, my love, our story is the most extraordinary of them all."


End file.
